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Wednesday, February 27, 2013

One of my favorite things about homeschooling is that we have all the time in the world to do fun things at the drop of a hat.

We're all history buffs around here so I try and find creative ways to fit a history lesson into whatever other things we're working on. I love to incorporate historical facts with Bible truths for fun devotionals for my kids.

A few days ago, we had a Titanic Tea Party. I made them an invitation and had them dress up in their fanciest costumes. They all came upstairs and sat around the tea table and I handed them each a character card.

I put a picture of an actual Titanic passenger on one side and a short biography on the other.

Avalon was the nurse and stewardess, Violet Jessop. Lynzie got her all fixed up in her nurse's apron and cap. By the way, Avalon will be 4 this Friday, March 1st!

Selah portrayed Mrs. Sylvia Caldwell, a missionary who claimed to have heard a crew member say, "God himself could not sink this ship", upon boarding the Titanic.

Elisha was American businessman, Benjamin Guggenheim. We all agreed that Guggenheim acted most heroically by refusing to take a place on the ship that could be given to a woman. He went down bravely and in his best clothing.

Michael was Captain Smith. While the Captain made some bad choices that might have led to the Titanic's demise, he ultimately did the right thing by staying with his ship and taking responsibility for the disaster.

Cainan thought it was pretty awesome to be John Jacob Astor, the richest man in the world at the time---until he found out that Astor, like the other men at the table, did not survive the sinking.

Lynzie had studied the Titanic's history previously so she was familiar with her favorite character, the "unsinkable" Molly Brown and her bravery in trying to convince those on her lifeboat to go back and look for survivors. Isn't her dress perfect for the occasion? We found it at a yard sale last summer---love it!

They took turns "introducing themselves" and then I gave a lesson linking up the prominent passengers' actions or attitudes with Biblical truths. It was a lot of fun and I think it got them thinking about issues like pride, duty, and priorities.

We used this set of Abingdon china that my mom gave me. I believe it was put out in the 1960s.

We love to use it for Lynzie's birthday tea parties, as well as whenever we have special guests. I figured the Titanic passengers would enjoy a little "Grape Kool-Aid Tea" and banana bread.

It was a great party and a fun learning experience. See the pretty doily under the bread plate? Elisha made that for me last weekend. I love it!Thanks to the girls at NextGen Homeschool for featuring this post

I hope you'll join me for this week's Homemaking Linkup. I love to feature some of the neat posts that are linked up so please make sure and put my button or a text link on your blog so you'll be eligible to be featured!

Let me stop right here and acknowledge my mother who is thinking, "Sarah, you just need to be patient. God will work it out and everything happens for a reason. It will come when it's supposed to come."
But I've got things that need taken care of! Oh, and by the way, I need them taken care of now.

"To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under Heaven." ~Ecclesiastes 3:1 (There's another shout-out to Mom...Beatles' #1 fan!)

Isn't that the way we all think at times? How quickly we forget that no matter how much money we have in the bank---or supposedly on it's way to the bank---God is still, and always will be, our provider.

Instead of counting the days, I need to make the days count.

It's not just the anticipation of tax refunds that cause me to pace the floor and foam at the mouth. I am an equal-opportunity worrier. In addition to my lack of patience in this area, let me point out some other things that I don't like waiting on:

My husband's job applications to be reviewed and employers to call

The final days of a pregnancy that seems will never end

The beginning of a pregnancy that seems will never come

My kids to go to bed so I can do something alone

Did I just write that last one? Yep...I'm nothing if not real.

Wow! What time is being wasted!
So much interaction that's not really happening.
So many distracted responses that have no meaning.
So little engaging.
So much missed.

"So teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom." ~Psalm 90:12

Thursday, February 21, 2013

You might be surprised to know that St. Patrick's Day is my very favorite holiday! There's no one big reason why, in fact I'm not really sure myself. I have happy memories of the St. Patrick's Day festivities in my hometown and I love all things Celtic---maybe I just love having another excuse to make treats. Ha!
I've been writing a series called Great Grandma's Kitchen where I feature recipes that I've found in the big box of cookbooks and recipes that once belonged to my great-grandma and great-great grandma. They're treasures for sure!

Recently, I was looking through a recipe box, trying to find something chocolatey to show off, and I came across several versions of the same recipe. Most everyone is familiar with "Magic Fudge"---the kind where you just mix up chocolate chips and sweetened condensed milk---melt it, chill it and eat it! Well, according to grandma's recipe box, this one has been circulating for awhile under a couple of other assumed names!

This Nestle® version from 1957 is called, Safety Fudge, and involves melting the chocolate chips over hot water (double boiler method) to make it "safe" for children to make. The tag line invites moms to "let junior chefs make it" and suggests adding peanut butter, nuts, raisins, Nescafe®, or gumdrops. Gumdrops? Well...maybe.

A little later version is called 12- MinuteMagic French Fudge and was put out by Eagle® Brand. What makes this one "French" is beyond me, but maybe they were playing to a '60s fad.

Here's my version. Maybe someday my great granddaughter will be sharing it with her friends!Chocolate Vanilla-Mint Fudge
2 c. chocolate chips2 c. white chocolate chips14 oz. sweetened condensed milk1 tsp. peppermint extractgreen food coloringLine the bottom of a square pan with wax paper (I used an 8 inch pan) and set aside. Place the chocolate chips and half the can of sweetened condensed milk in a bowl and microwave/stir until smooth. Pour into the pan and spread evenly. Place the white chocolate chips and the rest of the milk into a bowl and microwave/stir until smooth. Add peppermint and food coloring, stir well, spread evenly over chocolate fudge. Use a knife to swirl parts of the two fudges together for a pretty design. Refrigerate until firm then place on counter until it reaches room temperature. Run a knife around the edges of the pan and turn the fudge out onto a cutting board. Remove the wax paper and cut into squares.Linking with:

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

Jerry Eicher’s bestselling Amish fiction (more than 210,000 in combined sales) includes The Adams County Trilogy, the Hannah’s Heart books, and the Little Valley Series. After a traditional Amish childhood, Jerry taught for two terms in Amish and Mennonite schools in Ohio and Illinois. Since then he’s been involved in church renewal, preaching, and teaching Bible studies. Jerry lives with his wife, Tina, and their four children in Virginia.

Bestselling fiction author Jerry S. Eicher recounts his childhood in the Amish community of Aylmer, Ontario and his parents’ decision to move to Honduras. Jerry also tells of his eventual conversion to Christ and the reasons for his departure from the childhood faith he knew.

I can still see his face. Lean. Determined. Framed by his lengthy beard. I can see him running up the hill toward our house. He was carrying his bag of doctor implements.

Mom was having chest spasms, and any real doctor was miles away—across four hours of the broken, rutted, dusty Honduran road we took only as a last resort.

The running man was my Uncle Joe. The smart one of the family. The older brother. The intellectual genius. When Uncle Joe walked by, we stopped talking and listened intently when he spoke. On this day, he rushed by, not paying any attention to us children.

I knew he was coming about Mom, but I recall experiencing no fear for her life. Perhaps I wasn’t old enough to have such a fear. To me, Uncle Joe’s haste seemed more entertainment than emergency. After all, Mom had looked fine to me a few minutes earlier.

When Uncle Joe left the house some time later, he issued a favorable report that I never questioned. Nor did anyone else. The mysteries of the Englisha world of medicine were even further removed from us than the four hours to town. Uncle Joe studied the books, and we trusted him.

Years later, when our little Amish community in Central America was on its last legs and held in the grip of terrible church fights over cape dresses, bicycles, singing in English or Spanish on Sunday mornings, and other horrors that the adults spoke of with bated breath, it was the look on Uncle Joe’s face as he talked with Mom and Dad by the fence on Sunday afternoon that made things clear to me. If Uncle Joe thought something was over, then it was over.

Uncle Joe lived below us, across the fields, in a house smaller than ours even though his family was much larger. How they managed, I never thought to wonder. Their house never looked crowded. It was kept spotless by his wife, Laura, and their oldest daughters Rosanna and Naomi. We didn’t visit often on Sunday afternoons. Mostly we children dropped by on weekdays, sent on some errand by Mom or we wandered past on our meanderings around the countryside.

They kept goats in the yard, all of them tied with long ropes to stakes. One of them was named Christopher. We didn’t have goats. Dad ran a machine shop, and Mom took care of the garden. Goats were foreign to us. Smelly creatures. Mom scorned goat’s milk, even when Uncle Joe said emphatically it was far superior to cow’s milk.

We all lived near each other in those days—part of a grand experiment to see if the Amish faith could survive on foreign soil.

My grandfather, Peter Stoll, an Amish man of impeccable standing, had taken it upon himself to lead an Amish community to the Central American country of Honduras. He wasn’t an ordained minister, and I don’t remember seeing him speak in public. Still, the integrity of his life and his ideas so affected those around him that they were willing to follow him where few had gone before.

At the height of the experimental community, we ended up being twenty families or so. We all lived on two neighboring ranches purchased in a valley below a mountain. Most of us had come to Honduras from the hot religious fervor of the small Aylmer community along the shores of Lake Erie in Southern Ontario or from the detached coolness of Amish country spread over Northern Indiana. Plans were for the two to become one in mind and heart. And for awhile we did.

Those were wonderful years. The memories of that time still bring an automatic gathering of hearts among the Amish who were there—and even some of us who are no longer Amish. All these years later, most of us are scattered across the United States and Canada—except for the few of the original group who stayed behind.

Some of the people credit the joy of those days to the weather in our Honduras valley. And lovely weather it was. Balmy. Hardly ever above ninety or below forty. Others credit the culture. Some attribute our happiness to being so far from the States that we only had each other. I don’t know the full reason for our happiness. Perhaps it isn’t possible to know. But I do remember the energy of the place—its vibrancy. I do know the years left their imprints on us all.

This was my childhood. Those hazy years when time drags. When nothing seems to come soon enough. And where everything is greeted as if it had never been before. To me that land—that valley—was home. I absorbed it completely. Its sounds. Its language. The color of the dusty towns. The unpaved streets. The pigs in the doorway of the huts. The open fires over a metal barrel top. The taste of greasy fried beans. The flour tortillas and meat smoked to perfection. In my heart there will always be a deep and abiding love for that country.

Around us were mountains. To the north they rose in a gradual ridge, coming in from the left and the right to meet in the middle, where a distinctive hump rose into the air—officially named Mt. Misoco. But to us it was simply what the locals called it: La Montaña. The Mountain. Our mountain. Which it was in ways we could not explain.

To the south lay the San Marcos Mountains. At least that’s what we called them. Those rugged, jagged peaks lying off in the distance. I never climbed those mountains, but I often roamed our mountain—or rather our side of it—from top to bottom. On its peak, looking over to the other side, you could see lines and lines of ridges running as far as the eye could see.

A party of courageous Amish boys, along with a few visiting Amish youngsters from stateside, once decided to tackle the San Marcos Mountains. They threw their forces together and allowed two days for the trip. I was much too young to go along—and probably wouldn’t have anyway. But I waited for news of their adventure with interest. They came back soon enough— defeated and full of tales of dark jungles and multiple peaks that disoriented the heart. No one even caught sight of the highest point, let alone the other side.

In the summer, around five in the morning, the Southern Cross—that symbol of Christianity—hung over the San Marcos Mountains. Its haunting figure made of stars swung low in the sky. I would stand for long minutes gazing at the sight, caught up in the glory of it.

I was eight when we arrived in Honduras. We were one of the first families there after Grandfather Stoll had purchased and settled on the Sanson ranch. Dad seemed driven to the move by motives other than adventure. He was unhappy with the ordnung rules in the Amish community at Aylmer, and he wanted change. Change that didn’t include the great sin of joining a more liberal Amish church, of course.

In time Dad came to love the land along with the rest of us. And strangely, he came to love what he didn’t expect—the old ways, imperfect though they had been. My most enduring memory of Dad in those days is hearing him sing the old German songs at the top of his voice over the roar of his machine shop motors. And in the end, it came down to that question for all of them. A choice between what they loved and what they loved the most.

I grew up surrounded by men dedicated to an old faith. I saw those men, most of them my uncles, tested to the core. I saw them wrestle with the old and with the new, trying to figure out where everything fit together. I lived among giants of faith. I saw their agony and their sacrifice. I saw their choices, and it affected me deeply. Their faith had been hammered out back in the sixteenth century, in the old town of Zurich, Switzerland. Back during the time Ulrich Zwingli thundered his sermons in the old Grossmunster Church.

But in the days of my childhood, those stories of long ago were not mine yet. Those gallant tales of deeds done under fire and sword. Of imprisonment in noblemen’s castles. Of narrow escapes into the Swiss countryside from the murderous Berne Anabaptist hunters. Instead, my memories are of men in my own time. Men who believed that life was not worth living if you didn’t believe in something worth dying for. I was surrounded by men of passion. And if someone should make the claim that these men were misguided, I would insist the fault lay not in caring too much about religious matters. For I learned while growing up among them that this is how a person should live. That true believers follow God with all of their hearts and souls.

I'm happy to introduce Patricia from A Taste of Something Unimaginable, who is teaming up with Origami Owl, to bring my readers a great giveaway!Here's what Patricia has to say about her experience with Origami Owl:

Welcome to the Owl Charm You giveaway event. For a while now Origami Owl has been making amazing necklaces that are built to tell a story. Completely personalized to describe your life. I had seen pictures of these necklaces floating around on Facebook, but I did not know just how many charms there are to choose from. It took me forever to go through all the charms because I just couldn't decide on one! There were so many cute charms that could have described something about me. Once you actually receive the necklace you open the adorable box and you actually put the necklace together yourself. I was worried about this at first but it is actually really easy and fun.

The independent designer who worked with us for this giveaway event was Leslie Rhoads, and you can purchase your own living locket from her website http://owlcharmyou.origamiowl.com!

Now on to the good stuff. One lucky winner will receive a gift card to make their own Origami Owl necklace! I know you all are as excited as I am about Origami Owl.

According to Kleenex®, hands are "only as clean as the towel used to wash them." Isn't that the truth? When Lynzie and I went shopping for Kleenex® Hand Towels at Walmart today, we were on a mission to find a few items to help prevent germs in our home this flu and cold season. You can read more about our shopping trip in my Google+ album.

Unfortunately, our store did not carry the bundle packs we were looking for, but we did find this pretty box of hand towels very easily. While we're not going to be able to afford disposable hand towels on a regular basis for this family of 11, it's good to know we have this easy option during a time of year when illnesses spread easily.

Kleenex® Hand Towels are great for the kitchen, utility room, and bathroom, but I think we'll use ours in the bathroom most often. We don't have anywhere to keep the box in the kitchen or utility room but it looks great on our bathroom counter!In addition to our hand towels, Lynzie and I picked up a few more things to help fight the battle of the bacteria in our home.

One of the very best things we can do to fight germs is to use a good hand soap regularly. We chose one for the kitchen and one for the bathroom.

Old shower curtains harbor a lot of bacteria so we bought a new pretty one for Spring.

It's also important that our cleaning tools are in good shape. I use a new toilet brush every time I clean the toilet. At less than $1 each, this is an expense I'm willing to deal with for the sake of keeping things less germy.

Kleenex® has been a trusted brand for me as long as I can remember. I rely on the good quality, affordable price, and large selection of products Kleenex® provides. I'm glad to know there's a trusted alternative to bacteria-friendly cloth towels when I'm worried about germs being spread in my home.Connect with Kleenex®:Kleenex® at WalmartKleenex® on TwitterKleenex® on FacebookI am a member of the Collective Bias™ Social Fabric® Community. This shop has been compensated as part of a social shopper insights study for Collective Bias™ and Kleenex® Brand Tissues. All opinions are honest and are my own. #CBias #SocialFabric#SharetheSoft

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

On Valentine's Day I received this beautiful book, Afternoon Tea Parties, from my BookCrossing birthday buddy. I'd had it on my wish list for awhile so I was thrilled to receive it!

Today I made a batch of the Almond Biscotti that's featured in the book. I've made biscotti a few times in the past and every time it has been really easy and has turned out well. This recipe was no exception!

Next time, however, I think I'll add some cinnamon. Although that probably wouldn't go well with my favorite Twinnings Peppermint, it would be a good addition to this delicious recipe. I'll write out my version for you here in a minute.

Jamie bought me this beautiful cup and saucer for Christmas the year we were in Mount Vernon, Washington. I just love it and it's a special keepsake from our favorite part of the world (so far)! This was the year that I told him just to walk into an antique shop and buy me whatever caught his eye. He did SO good that year---ha! In addition to this pretty set, he also bought me a gorgeous antique plate with ribbon slats for hanging, a set of Lefton candlesticks from the 1950s and a piece of paper money from 1776. Very awesome. My mom gave me the spoon a few years ago for my birthday---isn't it pretty? I love stuff like this---can't get enough!

Anyway, here are the markings from the set. I've not had time to look it up yet but anything bearing the letters, E.N.G.L.A.N.D., in that order, has my heart!Here's the recipe I'm planning on using next time I make almond biscotti. Hope you have a blessed day!Cinnamon Almond Biscotti2/3 c. flour2/3 c. self-rising flour1/2 c. cornmeal1/2 c. sugar1 tsp. cinnamon2 eggs1 tsp. vanilla2/3 c. slivered almondsHeat oven to 325. Stir flours, cornmeal, sugar and cinnamon in a large bowl. In a separate bowl, beat the eggs and vanilla. Make a well in the dry ingredients, pour in egg mixture and almonds, and stir together. Knead a few times to form a sticky dough (add some water if needed). Shape the dough into a flat log (about 9x4x1) and place on a greased baking sheet. Bake for 25-30 min until golden. Remove from the oven and cool on counter for just a few minutes. Move to a cutting board and slice the log into pieces about 1/2 inch thick. Arrange them on a baking sheet and bake for another 15-20 minutes until golden and desired crispness. (I like mine a bit chewy). Cool and enjoy!

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Saturday, February 16, 2013

I have had so much fun this afternoon playing around with my MyMemories Suite scrapbooking software!

A friend of mine has been trying to get me into doing digital scrapbooking layouts but I haven't really taken the time to learn. I decided to sit down with the MyMemories software today and see what else I could come up with besides a regular scrapbook layout.The kids and I are having a Titanic tea party here pretty soon so I decided to make them a cute invitation announcement.

I like that I can save portions of the layout. This will come in handy for making matching scrapbooking templates.

I was able to customize size, colors, patterns, fonts and embellishments to create this cute card. The software's extensive Help Menu was useful a time or two and I really appreciated the "undo" button. Knowing I could undo anything I created really allowed me to be free to experiment with my card until I got it just how I wanted it.

I was also super excited about the vintage-look embellishments I found when browsing through the selections.

Would you like to win your own MyMemories scrapbooking software? Enter below via Rafflecopter. One winner will be drawn February 25th.